Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Bush Life

We went out on our first safari following tea the afternoon we arrived at Camp Moremi. With much gratitude I landed in Frank's vehicle with my best girlfriend, Cheryl, and two other couples I'd met on the trip. All of us are novice photographers whose primary interest above all else is learning and having a good time. The other 2 trucks in our group were full of photographers donning 8 inch lenses, tripods, monopods, and other annoying paraphernalia. Ours was kicked back and fun-loving making for an even better experience than I could have hoped for. We left camp in our land rover and bounced along the off road trails in the back bush; everything new and and exciting. Frank, our guide, is a 23 year native of the Botswana bush and the son of a true bushman. He told us that he goes out into the wild for a month at a time with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He can survive solely on the land around him and he shared many of the bushman's tips and tricks with us.

I've already mentioned that dozens and dozens of bird species flutter all around us and we happened upon a few of them in the first few minutes of the safari. The national bird, once the lilac breasted roller, is now the African fish eagle. (It changes with the government.) Only one of two fish eagle eggs will survive because the first hatched pecks its sibling's shell so ferociously it snuffs out life. This gorgeous iridescent blue bird pictured is called a long-tail starling.

Frank taught us all about the plant life found in the bush as well. The Marula tree is my personal favorite - coined bar of the jungle by one of the girls with us. Known to make monkeys drunk, its fruit is harvested to make a creamy adult beverage which is served over ice and is just the thing after a day on safari in the heat. We saw sausage trees which nourish giraffes and an abundance of acacias. We learned that elephant ear can be used for toilet paper (or firecrackers) and the bark of Botswana's 3 in 1 tree is a good natural toothbrush and toothpaste. It also stains your lips like lipstick. The leaves of the large fever berry tree are used by villagers to cure malaria and wild sage is rubbed on hunters' skin to mask their scent plus it repels mosquitos. Many herbs are found in the wild like basil which can be used easily in cooking but wild sage will spoil meat. Certain prey will deliberately eat wild sage so their predators will find them foul and steer clear. On that note... we learned that predators' eyes are situated on the front of their face but located on the side for prey. There is a tree called the strangler fig. New seeds germinate and grow in crevices literally choking off sunlight to the host tree which eventually dies as competition in a dense dark forest is fierce.

The back woods is riddled with termite hills. I initially thought that it was the remnants of trees just chowed down to dust by termites. They are actually started by one male and one female which mix their saliva with dirt and start building their palace. They spawn and the next generation, soldiers, continue to build and protect the nest before giving birth to the workers. A live mound resembles wet cement. One that is no longer living is just a dry heap and is a haven for black mambo snakes. This is significant because the mounds are also used by humans as cover when nature calls. :]




Saturday, February 21, 2009

"Love Bites"


I generally like to stay home on Friday nights because I'm so tired from pushing myself through the week but it does make the weekend feel longer if you go out and do something. My neighbor is a very competent actor and is playing in a show call Love Bites on stage at the Elephant Theater on theater row in Hollywood weekends through March 14th. It is the 8th volume of their annual Valentine's themed production under the artistic direction of David Fofi presented in 8 vignettes described as not so romantic & dysfunctional love stories. Each short comedy is an interesting (and disturbing) interpretation of love and the underlying pleasures, pain and passion that is the reality of such a knotty topic. All eight are well written and well acted but four standout as exceptional: Karinanaed (the overwhelming favorite) Everything I Do (starring my friend, Matt) Dirt, and Strings. Go on....'tis a cheap night out.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Pula!

Pula is Botswana's currency and literally means blessings; blessings of a more traditional ilk like rain, a good harvest and good health. Botswana and all its blessed charms is my new favorite country. We learned all about village life on the the one hour road trip from Victoria Falls over the Botswana border taking us past "four corners", the junction of Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana and Namibia. The road is a paved two lane highway running right smack through the wilderness. We had to slam on the brakes as a leopard leaped out in front of the van and darted across the road. For miles we drove over heaping mounds of fresh elephant dung and minutes later had to stop the vehicle and wait for the behemoth dung maker to cross to the other side. Our destination was the Okavango Delta accessible only by chartered airplane. We drove to the Kasane airport which is nothing more than what would be called a regional airport and climbed aboard a 20 seat plane. Weight is a very important factor limited to 20 kilos so many of the people in my group took only the necessities and stored the rest in a secure place at the airport. Somehow I got to sit up front with the pilot for the one hour flight over Chobe and Moremi National forests. I was shocked to see that auto pilot is used for most of the flight even through severe storm clouds.

The Delta is 27,000 square kms in area and home to only 60 camps. Eco-tourism is the mainstay industry in Botswana and the government is most concerned about it's preservation - both the area and the industry. Once we left the storms in our wake and could see the Delta in full view it is like nothing I've ever seen before. The closest resemblance I can think of is the Everglades in Florida. We landed on a dusty, gravel-y patch in the middle of nowhere. If you were on the correct side of the plane on approach you could spot giraffes grazing. There was a herd of stunning impala as well as our camp crew there to greet us. They told us that occasionally the ground staff have to drive their Landrovers like maniacs to chase off the animals grazing on the "runway". We deplaned in 100 degree heat, and humidity that robs your breath. We secured our places in vehicles with guides who we would remain with for the next couple of days and headed for camp. Camp Moremi is where we would make our home for the next 2 nights.

We pulled up to a hidden hideway in the trees on the water's edge and were met by Setch and Angi handing us cool cloths to wipe our faces from the journey. They asked each of us our names, matching our rooms and luggage, and escorted us to the dining hut for a gourmet lunch, al fresco. After lunch we had a couple of hours to get settled in and relax a bit before tea.

Setch showed us to our tent winding through the lush grounds and filled us in on the camp rules and expected program. Since this is a natural habitat for myriad bush animals we were not allowed to walk around the camp unescorted after dark. Our tent was one removed from "hippo highway". The tents are affixed to stilted wood decks about a hundred yards apart appointed with lofty beds, comfy linens, a fan, mosquito netting and bug spray both for room and body, tea station,
and an ensuite bathroom.
There is a seating area outside for enjoying the monkeys and baboons swinging in the trees along with countless species of birds and the choruses they sing. The most common is that of the red-eyed dove gargling a tune that sounds like he's introducing himself..."I am a red-eyed dove, I am a red-eyed dove, I am a red-eyed dove....over and over again to infinity - and insanity if you let it get to you but better than horns and sirens any day.

Electricity is only available during the day via generators which is turned off at night making the orchestra even more audible. It is so loud and soothing out there in the bush with all the animals lulling you to sleep singing, grunting, farting - yes, we could hear hippos farting, or at least making a similar noise - and baboons make this weird sort of clicking noise. Once you can turn your brain off which is trying to identify the different sounds it is the most beautiful sleep ever, even though it's still hot and sticky and the luxury of a fan is removed.

At Camp Moremi the safari experience is an all inclusive vacation and the program is fulfilling in every way. The staff, who are such warm, funny and amazing people arise at 5am and give you a morning "knock up" - they come to the door and softly say hellooooo until you answer indicating you're awake. They return at 5:30 to escort you to the dining hut for a nourishing continental breakfast of homemade pastries, yogurt, fruit like papaya, lychee, mango, & passion fruit, coffee, etc. before you depart for a 6 am safari. The morning safari is about 4 hours long with a little snack break in between - more homemade goodies and coffee. Then you return to the camp and have a little time to freshen up before a gourmet brunch is served. The food is unbelievable! Delta Desert & Safari, the corporate conglomerate that operates this and other camps in the Delta, plans the same meals for each camp and delivers food twice/month to each. There seems to be no waste at all. Whatever is left over from dinner the night before may be found in your lunch the next day in some variation like a casserole or stew. The food is some of the best I've ever tasted - they are very creative in the meals they prepare using seasonal and readily available fresh foods. The afternoon is free to do whatever you wish - swim, nap, journal, read up on the Delta in the lounge library, shop for local souvenirs in the curio shop, whatever you fancy. Tea time is 3:30pm consisting of a light and delicious snack and the evening safari at 4. With a stop for cocktails at sunset around 7ish - gin and tonic being the signature drink - you're returned between 7:30 and 8 for a quick change of clothes and more cocktails before dinner, usually at 8:30. Dinner is served in the formal dining room which is a very open and modern space with rich leather furniture and African inspiration. The staff introduces each other and the meal they have hand prepared for the evening.

After dinner a fire is built in an open pit outside where you can enjoy a digestif or coffee and have a chat around the fire under the wide open summer southern sky. This is the point in the evening where the escorts get a great deal of exercise walking back and forth from campfire to tent as people begin to nod off after such a thrilling and adventurous day.



Hooray for Snow

President's Day weekend always falls right around Damon's birthday so we usually plan a getaway. This year I thought it would be fun to go skiing. Damon and I have been together for 13 years and we've never skied together. We have family who lives in central Oregon near Mount Bachelor, part of a volcanic chain on the south east side of the Cascade mountain range, and arguably some of the best skiing on the west coast. I have been fortunate enough to ski Whistler, British Columbia in the Canadian Rockies and Lake Tahoe in California's own Sierra Nevada range (as well as local mountain resorts) and Bachelor is a worthy rival. I am merely a novice on two little sticks but I like to have fun and have new experiences. I really want to try snow boarding but I'm glad I was talked out of it this trip because I would have spent the day by myself on the bunny hill. As it were, me, Damon and his sister's family were all happy on the blue runs and could all carve up the mountain together.

Only a 25 minute drive from town, Bachelor boasts a 9000 + feet summit. My sister-in-law said the Bend area has had the mildest of the five winters they've lived there but had been graced by storms up from the south for the week prior to our visit. When we arrived on Saturday morning, St. Valentine's Day, it was cold, gray and snowing. It continued to snow intermittently the whole weekend leaving a beautiful blanket on the mountain peaks. We had awesome 2500' runs of fresh powder not unbearably crowded for a holiday weekend. Fatigued with sore muscles (mostly from playing Wii baseball) I fell a few times on my last run of the day. Falling isn't such a big deal especially on marshmallow but getting back up again is brutal work. I'd just cringe each time I felt myself lose balance or get stuck in a heavy drift because I could foresee the difficulty trying to snap into skis on a slippery vertical wearing myself out trying to keep my footing. I realized I should just turn in my gear and go to the bar. The sun, hidden in dense wet clouds most of the day, sat over the summit like a halo as I sipped Irish coffee awaiting the rest of my crew to take their last run. I sat on the chalet terrace enjoying the contrast of warm rays on my face and crisp air in my lungs thinking how perfect some days are.

This is a cool shot from the air of the back side of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Bring on '09

Vusa is one of the guides working for Shearwater Adventures and was manning a kayak on our rafting trip. We had a chance to talk on the way back to our hotel. He hails from one of the villages I described and gave me a little more insight to life on such a homestead. He said he was lucky to live close to school when he was a child but some of his 35 classmates would walk up to 50 kilometers each way to school. Classes began at 7 am and finished by 2 pm so they had enough time to get home before dark in winter. He said he loved school because they had a soccer field out back. He honed his skills and played professionally as a young man competing throughout Zimbabwe. Since he'd grown up with the river in his his back yard it was only natural for him to return to it once his soccer career ended. Now he feels as though the Zambezi no longer challenges him and he as been sending his c.v. around the world with hopes of landing a job with another exciting adventure company. Born the first of five children and the only boy, he himself had two sons but one of them died of pneumonia. Without complaint he expresses that he hopes for a better future for his remaining son.

We were in a very remote part of Zimbabwe. I don't even know how far from a proper city we were. I was trying to take in both the landscape and as much information from Vusa as possible while we drove - snapping photos not being terribly opportunistic. But this is a general idea of what a village dwelling looks like. I missed a precious shot of a handful of ladies standing around a large pump, maybe seven feet tall, one of them rocking up and down on the hand crank and the others awaiting their turn to extract water from the ground. Women have enormous responsibility in this way of life much like it was here a hundred years ago. But there is a sense of gratitude that emanates from them anyway.

Today is New Year's Eve and there is a celebration at the Kingdom Hotel. The Christmas decorations are still up and the staff is milling around making sure the dining room is arranged for dinner and dancing while festive enough to usher in a promising new year. I was spent. We'd been burning it for days and New Year's is never a party I really care about. I thought I'd write a little and then lay down for a nap before dinner having the thought if I wake up I'll participate and if I don't I don't. I finally nodded off but shortly thereafter was awakened to a nice glass of Argentine wine that had been transported from the States, spent 3 days Lord knows where and then delivered unadulterated to my bedside. Melbac, a mellow grape varietal perfectly suited to the Argentine climate, was the kick in the pants I needed to get my lampshade on and cut up a rug. A pleasant dinner was served with a few local favorites, save the caterpillar, including a beautiful turkey. The entertainment was supposed to be a band until 11pm followed by a DJ till 2am. The band (to my chagrin) played horrible songs like "I Shot the Sherriff" in a dreadfully uncool way aaaaaall niiiiiight looooong. Everybody else loved it, especially the staff. The dance floor was packed - illuminated only by the bluish glow of cell phones held high to capture the memories. We wore paper crowns on our heads - the prize from our Christmas crackers found on our dinner plates - and paper streamers spun rainbows from the cieling fans. The champagne went around the table and we helped to elect Lois the best dancer of the night. Lois is a woman in our group who had just celebrated her 74th birthday a couple of days earlier - on the plane in fact. She made John Travolta look like a chump! The DJ never did show up but that didn't phase anyone in the least. I turned into a pumpkin shortly after midnight but I heard that the party went on 'till the wee hours. Evidently my friend Vusa showed up asking for me but I was long in dreamland. He had invited us to come to a party with the locals being held at "Shoestrings" but I couldn't get any of the guys to go along as an escort. The honest truth being that I just wasn't brave enough to go on my own. We had to be up bright and early for our transfer to Botswana and I wasn't about to get left behind in a country where credit cards aren't accepted and hyperinflation prohibits normal commercial functioning. I don't need much but potable water is more than a luxury in my book.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Rollin' down the river


The Zambezi river is the 4th longest and one of the most powerful rivers in the world. It undulates from its spring-well in Zambia through 5 African countries and dumps into the Indian ocean off the coast of Mozambique. Its waters are coveted for an amazing rafting experience. Half our group wanted to raft and the other half went on a leisurely breakfast cruise. Either way, being anywhere near the Zambezi is an exhilarating treat. I wish I had pictures to share but we couldn't take our cameras with us. One of the girls on our raft had a waterproof camera (my next purchase) so hopefully she'll hook me up with some cool images. We started of the day with an orientation in a rickety pavilion overhanging the gorge where the Zambezi rages below. Skinner, an energetic 40 something year old guy who grew up on the river and knows it like he knows himself, presented the briefing and passed out death waivers. With the humor we'd come to expect from local Zimbabweans he made us wonder if we shouldn't just jump off the ledge and save him the trouble of navigating our raft. I guess they have to prepare you for the worst; after all, at the very least the Zambezi is chock full of crocodile. There were people from all over the world signed up on the trip. We met people from Croatia, England and various parts of Africa. A family from England stood next to me - the teenage daughter so scared she was in tears and I thought the Mom was going to pass out. Feeling as though we had a good sense of Skinner's skill set we lobbied hard to get in his raft. He acquiesced and we were off on a long drive to the river's edge.

We suited up with jackets & helmets and grabbed our oars for a daring and dangerous hike into the gorge. Though I'm not too coordinated as a rule I didn't have any trouble but those who have bad knees, etc. were hatin' it. Of course there were no stairs, hand railings or anything of the kind. It was loose uneven terrain with the odd vine or rock to catch your footing. The occasional waterfall made the path a little slick. Amidst all this beauty I couldn't help the pessimistic thoughts that crept into my head as I dreaded the hike OUT at the end of the day. We finally made it down to the river. After all the walking and coffee I desperately needed to "check the prop". This was the fodder our guide needed to get started with shenanigans. It was hard to concentrate when guides are bombarding you with water from every angle while one is grabbing your leg pretending to be a crocodile.

Safety is paramount so we all piled into our raft and took a few instructions including practicing falling out. I think we had seven rafts in our excursion and as many kayaks to fish out the swimmers. We had all rafted before but weren't sure what to expect from the rapids given the frightful orientation we'd just been through and knowing the strength of the river's current. Rapids are rated on a scale of one through six - 6 being the most gnarly. There are 24 rapids in a few miles stretch of the river, most of them class four. Rapid #9 is NEVER navigable no matter what your skill level. Usually you raft 1-8 and then get out of the river and walk all of your equipment around #9. Today, since the downpour a couple of days earlier, the river was too high to walk around #9 so we started at #10. The rapids have names like Obliterator, Terminator, Washing Machine, The Ugly Sisters & Mother. We had 3 guys - 2 occupying the front positions and therefore setting the pace- and 4 girls in our raft, plus Skinner at the back. One of the guys in the front was more interested in video taping than paddling so our rhythm was a tad off. About half way through the guys were sent to the back and the girls took over the lead. (It was a much more cohesive strategy I must say). So we hit the first rapid and rocked it! It was so exciting. Each one got increasingly more so as we crested the waves and our little dingy was tossed about. I had hoped for some class fives 'cause I've never done it before but the fours were exhilarating. We hammered it for a few rapids, one after the other but there was plenty of opportunity to float the river enjoying the stunning scenery. It was kind of like pictures I've seen of the fjords in Norway. Incidentally, Skinner spends the summer working the rivers in Norway. There were lots of gorgeous waterfalls and a number of animal species make the ravine their home. At times we could swim and splash around near the raft but one of the more exciting parts was jumping in and hanging onto the raft as it swiftly sailed down the river. So much fun! None of our people got flipped but there were many floaters throughout the day from other rafts.

Facing sheer rock I started the climb out of the gorge at a good clip. Endurance isn't my strength and I struggled much of the way up. It was the hottest part of the day, muggy, and thick with bugs. I got the worst sunburn of my life on my legs and I thought I was going to die. Thankfully there were porters to carry the rafts up for us. I definitely would have died otherwise. True to form bottles of Bollingers and a bounty of food awaits. We were accosted by young men selling carvings of wood and soapstone indigenous to Zimbabwe trying to plunder us for as much as they could. They even asked for the clothes off our backs and shoes on our feet. It was questionable whether they needed it themselves or intended to sell it. As long as tourists keep enjoying the Zambezi the population will keep trying to get their money.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Sh*t from Shinola

The Victoria Falls area is beautiful to explore. Our morning started with a walking tour of the Zimbabwe side of the falls. It felt good to have a little exercise after a 20 hour flight from the states. We left Saturday morning from L.A. and flew to D.C. With just a one hour layover we were off to Johannesburg, South Africa; a fifteen hour flight. The seat next to me was vacant so I was able to curl up in two seats for a nap or two, an uncomfortable nap but sleep nonetheless. We arrived in Jo-burg at 4pm Sunday (10 hours time difference). So a 2 hour walk in the fresh tropical air of a rain forest adjacent the falls was most refreshing. Our guide, Sim, suggested we suit up in 3/4 length rain jackets since we'd be descending into the gorge a bit and the mist from the falls would drench us. It did, as did the rain storm that blew overhead under the brightly shining sun. It was a lush forest laden with vines and monkeys and incredible vistas of the falls from every imaginable angle. There is a new gorge being carved into the Zambia side which should only take about 10 billion years to break through. One of the rock faces had just a few leaks springing from it and was otherwise dry. I said to someone I bet there are extreme sportsmen who will find a way to repel down that wall as volumes of water rage along side. Sure enough, one of the guys said he'd seen a group of people scaling the cliff without harnesses the very next day. Crazy!

From there we piled into a helicopter for a sky tour of, wait for it, the falls. From this vantage point you get a real sense of it's gargantuan scale. One of my favorite pics is this one of the Zambezi zigzagging the terrain with the mist rising up from the river. I wasn't really excited about going to Vic Falls in truth - I've been to Niagra and seen waterfalls in Hawaii and other places - but it is truly spectacular and I'm happy to have had the experience. From the air we saw hippos frolicking in their spot near Devil's pool and on the road back to our hotel we stopped to view a 4000 year old Baobob tree, found mainly in the savannas of Africa. Pretty cool stuff. Our days began very early to beat the heat of the day. We had afternoons free to swim, nap or whatever before activities began again in late afternoon.




This afternoon we had our first safari - on the back of an elephant. Safari elephants have been orphaned but are worked with and cared for by gentle human beings on a private sanctuary. Orphaned elephants, as you may not know, are dependent on a nurturing and attentive mother figure for their very survival. They are, however, still wild animals. My elephant was called Doma, a middle aged two ton tessy with little more than food on her mind. Elephants are herbivores and need to eat nearly 200 kilos/day. They like the sap inside the bark of trees and literally peel the bark from bottom to top of a 20 foot tree to get it. Branches are all fair game too as they wrap their trunks around them, give a good tug and shovel it into their mouth. They will even uproot a tree in search of the water beneath it.

Generally you ride two persons plus the guide on each elephant. But one of the elephants wasn't feeling well and there weren't enough available for our group when we arrived so I rode between two other girls. African elephants are so enormous that you have to practically do the splits to sit on them. I'm not that limber. But at least I was sandwiched. My poor girlfriend in the front was sitting on the "hump" and had my fingers in her crotch the whole time because the mandatory safety grip was underneath her. And the one in the back felt like she was teetering off Doma's rear end - bear in mind we were about one story high.

While we learned a lot and saw some incredible scenery the best animal viewing this time out was impala, water buck, tortoises, and dung beetles. Talk about fascinating. Dung beetles attack the elephant dung within minutes and start rolling it like snowballs. Then they dig a gopher hole in the earth and cram the dung ball down inside. The female comes along and burrows her eggs in the dung, the male fertilizes them and the dung becomes an incubator for the next generation.

Tea time in Africa is a serious affair; out come the cocktails and finger foods after every activity. There's nothing more refreshing than a bottle of Bollinger lager after traversing the bush on the rump of an elephant.